


in the crooks of your body, i find my religion

by andrewminyards



Series: buffskier prompt fics [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Buff Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff and Humor, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Pining, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Thirsty Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, buffskier rights!!, geralt is smitten and thirsty for his bard, jaskier is STRONK and geralt likes it, jaskier is also hairy btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrewminyards/pseuds/andrewminyards
Summary: Jaskier wears well-tailored doublets and high-waisted trousers, and Geralt is clueless about strength that hides underneath Jaskier's clothing, assuming that Jaskier's strength is no more than an average human's.He's wrong.*A collection of buff!Jaskier prompts from Tumblr, featuring Jaskier picking Geralt up, Geralt being jealous and possessive, Geralt thirsting over a shirtless Jaskier and more<3
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: buffskier prompt fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854802
Comments: 39
Kudos: 384
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterbitch (WinterLadyy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLadyy/gifts), [TheJaskiestOfThemAll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJaskiestOfThemAll/gifts).



> alright so i got a bunch of buffskier prompts on tumblr and i had a lot of fun writing them, so i'm posting some of them here on ao3! some of them include [contributions from others](https://jaskicr.tumblr.com/post/624336765849911296/could-you-imagine-if-jaskier-got-thicc-like-just) so i won't post them here, but [you can check them out here!](https://jaskicr.tumblr.com/tagged/buffskier) (i created a buffskier tag just for this lmao)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for the lovely [@witchersjaskier's prompt](https://witchersjaskier.tumblr.com/):
> 
> ['babe babe babe listen. for buffskier i got a stupid idea of jaskier jokingly promising geralt to carry him over the threshold of kaer morhen and then when geralt manages to forget it, he actually DOES it when they finally go there. the witchers are both amused and impressed because damn, that's so funny geralt but also if i could maybe borrow the strong bard please?? ily'](https://jaskicr.tumblr.com/post/624338379746803712/babe-babe-babe-listen-for-buffskier-i-got-a)

“One day,” Jaskier grumbles, wriggling about in Geralt’s arms. “One day, _I’ll_ be the one carrying you.”

Geralt tightens his arms around Jaskier and grunts, “Stop moving around, Jaskier. We don’t need your wounds getting worse before we get to a healer.”

“I’m serious,” Jaskier insists, pouting. “Not that it isn’t nice to be all wrapped up in your strong arms, darling, but we should try it the other way round sometime.”

Geralt is pretty sure they’ve tried it the other way round once, when a royal wyvern had injured him so much that Jaskier had to carry him back to camp, but he’d been rather out of it at the time. It’s a shame that he hadn’t been fully able to enjoy being in Jaskier’s arms for a change, and he wonders what it would feel like to have Jaskier carry _him_ for once.

“Well, if you’re that adamant,” Geralt drawls, rolling his eyes. “This winter, you can carry me over the threshold of Kaer Morhen. How does that sound?”

He’s joking, of course, but there’s a glint in Jaskier’s eyes, a glint that means mischief. “You said it, Geralt. I’d be happy to.”

“Sure,” Geralt mutters, knocking on the healer’s door.

Just before the healer ushers them in, Jaskier gives Geralt a slow grin. “I’ll hold you to your words, Geralt.”

Then the healer is fussing over Jaskier, treating his injuries, and Geralt promptly forgets the conversation in favour of worrying over Jaskier.

He forgets all about this exchange, thinking it just another jest in their usual dynamic, and once Jaskier is healed, they set out on the road as they always do. The months pass as they have for the past decades they’ve been travelling together, a comfortable routine of Geralt taking contracts and Jaskier performing in various establishments, and this joke fades from Geralt’s mind.

That winter, they make their way to Kaedwen and make the trek up to Kaer Morhen. Geralt had never dared to take Jaskier up to his home before, fearing that Jaskier’s mortal body wouldn’t be able to withstand the harsh climate and unforgiving terrain, but with the recent discovery that Jaskier isn’t, in fact, human, Geralt’s worries have dissipated, and he’s eager to introduce _his_ bard to his family.

Finally, Kaer Morhen looms over them, an imposing stone fortress as grey as the winter landscape around it.

“Wow,” Jaskier murmurs as they approach, eyeing the majestic mountains wreathed by mist and coated in snow. There’s an awed look in his eyes, and Geralt preens slightly, pleased that Jaskier finds him home pleasing.

Anticipation grows in his chest when the gates of Kaer Morhen come into view, and Geralt has no doubt that his brothers must be rushing down to greet them. At the thought of finally seeing his family after a year, and of Jaskier finally meeting his family, a small smile curls at Geralt’s lips, and then he’s being swept off his feet.

He yelps in surprise (Geralt will deny that this sound came out of his mouth to the end of his days) when he finds himself cradled in Jaskier’s arms, one arm hooked under his knees and the other supporting his back.

Jaskier laughs, a clear and bright sound, and Geralt looks up to see Jaskier’s blue eyes sparkling at him in amusement.

“What the fuck, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, finally finding his voice, and Jaskier beams wider.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Jaskier asks with another laugh, and Geralt tries to wriggle out of Jaskier’s arms, only for Jaskier to clutch Geralt closer to him, grip tightening.

“Let me go,” Geralt demands, but it’s half-hearted. He’s never been held like this before, but he finds that he quite enjoys being carried like this, wrapped up safe and secure against Jaskier’s chest.

“No can do, love.” Jaskier starts walking towards the gates, and though Jaskier’s grip on him is secure, Geralt hooks his hands around Jaskier’s neck to secure his position and to pull himself closer to Jaskier. “You said it, remember?”

“What.”

“That I could carry you over the threshold of Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier reminds him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Geralt’s lips, his steps never faltering. “I said I would hold you to your word, and here we are.”

“Hmm,” Geralt grumbles, but doesn’t protest further. It turns out that it’s very nice to be carried, and he’s amazed at the strength in Jaskier’s arms, not a quiver of exertion as he carries a muscle-heavy witcher.

He wouldn’t mind if this were to happen more often.

Then he hears the sounds of his brothers, and he snaps his neck in the direction of their voices, just in time to spot them opening the gates. Their eyes widen in comical unison when they spot Geralt’s position, and when a slow, shit-eating grin starts to spread across Lambert’s face, Geralt resigns himself to a winter of relentless teasing.

“Well, hello, Geralt.” Lambert is smirking widely as he approaches them. “And who do we have here?”

Eskel has his arms crossed, but an amused smile plays at his lips as he watches Geralt willingly be carried by a bard. Vesemir’s face is stoic, but Geralt makes out the telltale twitch of his brow that indicates he’s trying to hold in laughter.

Unable to sweep into a dramatic bow with Geralt in his arms, Jaskier settles for dipping his head. “I am Jaskier the bard.” Even though he’s unable to gesture for dramatic effect, Jaskier somehow enunciates every word to be overly theatric. “You might know me as your brother’s bard.”

Jaskier has been holding him for a few minutes now, and he seems fine, utterly unconcerned with Geralt’s weight, and for a fleeting moment, Geralt wonders how long Jaskier is capable of holding him for, and the thought of exploring Jaskier’s strength sends a small thrill through him.

They might be spending a lot of time in Geralt’s room this winter.

“Oh, we know who you are,” Lambert replies, and Geralt has a really bad feeling about what might come next. “We’ve been wondering when Geralt would finally bring you to see us. Gods know that he’s pined after you long enough.”

“ _Lambert_ ,” Geralt hisses, mortified. A blush creeps up the back of his neck, and Jaskier chuckles in amusement.

“Pining after me, huh?” Jaskier drops a soft kiss to Geralt’s forehead, and Geralt feels his face grow hotter as Lambert lets out a raucous laugh.

“He has it bad for you,” Eskel confirms, and Geralt shoots him a betrayed glare. “For quite a long time as well.”

Jaskier laughs, and at the beautiful sound, Geralt can’t quite find it in himself to be mad at his brothers, not when they’ve managed to make Jaskier laugh like that.

“I might steal your bard,” Lambert comments, looking at Jaskier appreciatively. “Any bard that can pick up a witcher is rather impressive.”

Geralt growls low in his throat, and Eskel joins in with a grin.

“You’re too prickly for him, Lambert,” Eskel teases, turning his grin on Jaskier. “I’m sure he’d rather go with me.”

“I’ll consider it,” Jaskier says teasingly, and Geralt feels an irrational spike of jealousy. “Picking witchers up has proven to be rather fun. I might let you have your turn to be picked up.”

“Neither of you are taking him,” Geralt rumbles, trying to get out of Jaskier’s arms to launch himself at his brothers, but Jaskier’s grip tightens on him, rendering his struggles futile.

“You’d better appreciate your bard, Geralt,” Vesemir adds. “Your brothers seem rather taken with him.”

Another growl, low and possessive, rips from Geralt’s throat, but his brothers only laugh in amusement as Vesemir looks on with fond exasperation.

“He’s _mine_ ,” Geralt asserts, tightening his grip around Jaskier’s neck, pressing their bodies closer.

“You know, Jaskier, if you ever get tired of Geralt, I would very much be appreciative of a strong bard who can pick me up easily,” Lambert says as he starts walking backwards into the keep, and it’s only Jaskier’s grip on Geralt that prevents him from lunging at his brother, something primal within him growling _mineminemine_.

The rest of them follow Lambert into the keep, and the moment Jaskier steps over the threshold, he lifts Geralt higher and captures his lips in a sweet kiss. Geralt hums in contentment and tightens his arms around Jaskier’s neck, happy to stake his claim in front of his brothers, ignoring their whistling and catcalling.

When Geralt finally pulls away at the sound of Lambert’s exaggerated groans, Jaskier is smiling at him softly.

“See, I told you that I’d carry you over the threshold of Kaer Morhen.”

“You did.” And that gets Geralt thinking about the strength in Jaskier’s arms again, and suddenly, he has an urge to show Jaskier his room. Right now.

“My room is that way,” he murmurs in Jaskier’s ear, and is rewarded with a slow grin filled with dirty promise.

Then Jaskier carries Geralt all the way to his room, and that night, Geralt explores Jaskier’s strength in new and exciting ways, falling apart underneath his strong, beautiful bard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i haven't posted other prompts on here, it's because i'm cleaning them up to be posted on here - they'll be up in the next few days:)
> 
> also, if you're waiting for an update to the witcher!jaskier series, it should be up in a day or two, i promise<3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for [@jask-jaskier-jaskiest's](https://jask-jaskier-jaskiest.tumblr.com/) prompt:
> 
> ['Steeeeeepppphhhhhhhh please gimme some Buffskier performing at a tavern and it’s incredibly warm so he just takes off his whole slam shirt and the whole tavern is like *hesrt eyes* and Geralt is like Nope that Bard is mine and he just gets up and like picks Buffskier up (because even if he’s buff he deserves picking up) and like drags him to their room and is like you keep shirt on from now on you too buff (aka only take shirt off when I’m there please)'](https://jaskicr.tumblr.com/post/624308043128160256/steeeeeepppphhhhhhhh-please-gimme-some-buffskier)

It’s the peak of summer. The tavern’s windows are open, but it does little to change the oppressive heat, the sun beating down on the roof. Jaskier is performing, sweat dripping from his temples as he dances around the tavern, bringing song and music to its patrons.

Jaskier is _boiling_. The heat is stifling, and with how he’s been dancing and singing for over an hour, Jaskier feels like he’s about to melt.

Once the song is over, he gives a sweeping bow to the patrons. “Please excuse me, but the heat is truly suffocating, and I’m afraid that I must take off my shirt if I want to continue.” He sets down his lute, hands edging towards the bottom of his shirt as he flashes a cheeky grin to his audience. “I apologise if I scandalise all of you with the sight of my bare chest, but I really do need to take off my shirt before I die of the heat.”

There’s more than a few cheers from men and women alike, and Jaskier grins wider as he pulls his shirt over his head and resumes playing. The patrons are a lot more enthusiastic now, slipping coins into Jaskier’s pockets as he prances past, giving him a sly grin as they reach out and run their hands over his arms, his chest, his back.

Those doublets are rather deceiving. Who would’ve thought that a bard would have such enticing muscle?

Meanwhile, Geralt is getting increasingly agitated as the patrons get more progressively more touchy. There’s something simmering in his heart as he watches the scene before him, and it grows with each giggle from a patron as they stare shamelessly at Jaskier, with each lingering touch as everyone takes the chance to get their hands on Jaskier's body, with each flirtatious wink that Jaskier shoots at his audience.

Unable to stand it anymore, Geralt stands up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, and he heads over to where Jaskier is in the middle of a bawdy song. Jaskier is singing his heart out, sandwiched between a male and female patron, and jealousy spikes in Geralt when he realises that they have their hands all over his bard.

Oh, fuck no.

“We’re leaving,” he grunts as he approaches Jaskier. When Jaskier arches a brow at him and continues singing, the female’s hand brushing through his chest hair, Geralt snaps.

He strides forward and lifts Jaskier in his arms. Jaskier stops mid-chorus, squeaking and flailing as Geralt carries him away from the tavern patrons and up to their room.

“ _Geralt_ ,” Jaskier squawks, wriggling around in Geralt's arms, but that only makes Geralt hold him tighter. “Geralt, what the _fuck_.”

Geralt doesn’t answer, heading up the stairs and ignoring the clamours of the audience, until they reach their room.

Dumping Jaskier on the bed, he growls, low in his throat, “No.” 

Confused, Jaskier blinks wide eyes up at him. “What do you mean, no?”

“Don’t take your shirt off in front of others,” Geralt grunts, unable to focus on anything but the murmur of _mine, he’s mine_ in his head. Jaskier makes quite a sight before him, sprawled across the bed, chest glistening with sweat and emphasising the contour of every dip and curve of muscle, and Geralt can’t take his eyes off him.

“It was hot!” Jaskier protests, but he makes no move to get up, watching Geralt with bright eyes..

“They were touching you,” Geralt rumbles, recalling the hungry way the tavern patrons had reached for Jaskier, and another wave of jealousy surges within him.

Jaskier laughs, and his chest shakes with the sound, drawing Geralt's eyes to it. “Seriously, Geralt?”

“Only take your shirt off in front of me,” Geralt asserts, voice low as he reaches for Jaskier, eager to touch that wonderful, sculpted masterpiece laid out before him, _just for him_.

“Oh?” Jaskier is smiling, eyes sparkling as Geralt's hands roam his chest, brushing through the thick hair.

“You’d better give me incentive not to, then,” Jaskier purrs into Geralt’s ear, and Geralt shudders slightly. “Come on, darling wolf. Show me that I’m yours.”

Geralt pulls Jaskier into a fierce kiss, relishing in the way Jaskier's broad chest presses against his, the way Jaskier's strong arms curl around him, pulling him ever closer.

Jaskier is his, and no random tavern patron will ever change that.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr on my [witcher sideblog @jaskicr](https://jaskicr.tumblr.com/)! feel free to send me prompts for more buffskier stuff, or other stuff if you want!<3


End file.
